


Understanding Nothing

by ttlyxxxoblivious



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:46:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttlyxxxoblivious/pseuds/ttlyxxxoblivious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan left the band. What now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Understanding Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this 3 years ago, but I've recently revised it and figured I'd post it here. It's a tad on weird side style-wise, but I've grown fond of it.

_“You’re ugly.”_

“I’m ugly.” I whispered to myself as I put the finishing touches on my makeup. It had been years since I had done myself up like this. There were blues and blacks and I felt like a bruise.

“You’re hot.” A familiar brunette woman came up behind me and I smiled at her reflection. She reached out her dainty hand and placed it on mine as it rested on the counter. “You’re not on for another twenty minutes…”

“My makeup will smudge.” I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but that’s apparently how it came out because her face quickly contorted. I feel like I see that face on everyone lately.

“It’s alright… I can wait. We wouldn’t want the famous Ryan Ross to go on stage with smudged makeup.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I copied the look and set my eyeliner down.

“I’m sorry.” I felt her hand run through my hair and my nerves for this concert numbed my instinct to jerk away. I sighed in relief and closed my eyes.

“It’s fine, I get it. You’re nervous.” She flashed her pearly whites and placed her lips gently on my skin. I could feel it, but I felt nothing. “Brendon and the rest of Panic are here to watch.”

The sound of their names sent shivers down my spine. It was the first thing I’ve actually felt in a while. My hand grabbed at my torso and found the crevice that was once my stomach. When was the last time I had eaten again? There’s always time to do that later.

_“ You don’t need to eat.”_

“I’m not hungry anyway.” I dropped my hand and turned from the haunting mirror wishing I hadn’t answered out loud.

“You should eat, baby.” The sugary voice seeped over my shoulders and filled my ears with her false concern.

I muttered an automatic response along with my excuses and slipped out of the dressing room. Thoughts of incidents played through my mind as I made my way to the stage. Every corner and stairway led to a painful accident that could prevent the show from continuing.

“Five minutes, Ross.” A man with a headset rushed past me and my sound man for the night handed me my guitar. I gulped down the beast hiding within me and waited for my cue.

With my cue finally forcing me out, I took a deep breath. I intended to focus on the back to avoid my fans and supporters, but as my eyes skipped over the crowd and landed on the back wall they found exactly what I was secretly wishing I wouldn’t. A pair of teddy bear brown eyes met mine and I nearly forgot what I was doing standing up on that stage. A few blinks later and the screaming crowd finally met my ears.

An entire set later and I still needed to reset my mind by refocusing my eyes every few seconds. This was far worse than I expected. I scooted out of sight from the public’s view as soon as possible and dipped my head as I avoided the basic hotspots. My target was the fire exit, but just as I pushed the release bar to open it a fluttered hand clasped my shoulder. I’d know that feeling anywhere, but it was still strange to me. It was so light that if it was any other person I could simply pretend I never felt it. This, of course, wasn’t any hand. This was Brendon Urie’s hand.

“Why the rush to get out?” His chocolate voice hadn’t changed, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t reach like it once projected.

Despite all of the differences, I was still the young man quickly back in the good-old-days. My heart skipped a beat and I had to force air in and out of my lungs. “I-I didn’t see y-you.” It was a lame excuse, but it was all I could choke out.

“Didn’t you get the letter?” Warm, wide eyes burrowed deep into me and I dared to look away futilely. I had physically received the note, but after reading it I caught only two things; he was happy and hadn’t seen me in almost a year.

“Oh.” I paused, but forgot to feign forgetfulness. “I’m sorry.” For the second time I was able to sneak a peek at those coffee cup eyes.

“You wore the makeup.” Pillowed lips curved upwards as I felt my skin searing under his watchful gaze.

I nodded and grabbed at my gnawed jacket sleeve. I couldn’t even look at the only reason I spent an hour in front of the demon.

“It looks nice.” Fire danced along my cheek as he grazed my skin with his fingers.

A small gasp escaped and I worked overtime to keep my eyes in place and my chest rising and falling on time. My fight or flight instinct kicked in and my submissive body leaned into the door and pushed it open. I stumbled back and turned quickly before making contact with the cement.

“Ryan!” The supple hands reached out as he knelt beside me. No one could have been injured from a fall like that, but I couldn’t say I was fine. “I’ll go get some ice. Hang tight.”

Oh, Brendon. He could always be depended on to take the initiative. I took my chance for escape and was back on my creaky hotel bed in minutes.

**

“I-I really can’t go out…” I whispered as Jon dragged me into a house. We had been touring for weeks and I hadn’t gone to one party. We were now one state past the incident with Brendon. A little bit of guilt tugged at me, but the unease of the outing distracted me temporarily.

“Nonsense.” Jon replied and shoved me into the doorway. I almost tripped, but managed to catch myself by some miracle.

He disappeared in no time and I was left to find my way to the main attraction. I settled down in front of a coke line and downed a few shots of my favorite vodka. I could already feel the blankets of velvet wrapping around my mind and I was relaxing just fine.

Letters. I was writing letters last night. Brendon. I saw Brendon last night. I wrote letters about Brendon last night. Love. I think I love Brendon. What is love? Tired. I want to sleep.

\--

_“Go die.”_

“Trust me, I’m better off dead.” My eyes were closed, but my tongue moved within the cotton. Why was everything so soft?

“Ryan Ross, take that fucking back right now.”

Fuck. If that was who I thought that was, and even in my current state I knew who that was, than I was in need of another sex shots. Sex? Did I mean six? Fuck indeed…

“Did you fucking hear me Ross? You leave me worried sick about you and here I find you the next day drunk off your ass in my bed.”

Brendon’s bed? I’m definitely drunk. When did we have sex? Wait, he said he found me here. Who did I have sex with in his bed? Please tell me it wasn’t Z-berg. I meant to tell her I wasn’t actually interested in her. I mean, I’m gay. Didn’t she see how I used to look at Brendon on stage?

“Ry?” Once Brendon’s terse voice softened I realized I had yet to respond.

“Bren…” My poor excuse for an apology was hardly on my mind as I came to and saw that god standing shirtless in front of me. I said up quickly and rubbed my eyes. My memories flooded quickly back to me.

“Do you have any explanation as to why I nearly crawled into my hotel bed to find you in it?” His voice sounded impatient, but the look on his face, the one I’d come to believe, said he was slightly relieved.

“I…” I genuinely thought about it, but came up with no logical explanation. “I’m not drunk.”

“Not anymore you’re not, but you clearly were when you got into my bed. How did you even find it? You seemed so desperate to get as far away as possible yesterday that this just doesn’t make sense. I mean, I understand the whole harsh feelings because of the band splitting, but I thought we had something really strong, you know? And then you go and trip and I went all the way…”

I zoned out with a small smile on my lips. He was so cute when he rambled like that. He usually only did that when he was nervous. I don’t really know what he would be nervous for.

\--

Suddenly, I was up. It seemed as though for a second time, but a careful intake of my surroundings that those minute moments of bliss were mere figments of my unconscious desires played before my sleeping eyes. It was noon, as expected after a hard night of partying, so I stumbled out of my hotel bed and into the bathroom. My face was smudged and the bruises were beginning to uncover themselves. Stained water poured down the drain and within seconds I was renewed. I carefully threw on clothes and made my way to a diner I had spotted on the way to the hotel the day prior. I scooted into a booth in the far back corner and ordered a coffee and pancakes. When my food came I was suddenly plagued with dizziness. I let a shiver escape and downed the foul liquid of necessity in my mug. Once the scent of the freshly cooked treachery reached my nasal cavity, I made my way to the doorway. I patted my tight pants down and let a soft string of curses drip from my lips. A white sliver of bliss came into my peripheral vision and I accepted quietly before following the offering hand up to a face. If the cigarette had been in my mouth I would have surely choked. This was definitely not a dream.

“I thought you were quitting.” A mellifluous sigh rolled off Brendon’s tongue entrapped in a rolling cloud of pale grey.

“I guess it didn’t work out for either of us.” I held the small pleasantry up to my mouth as a flame brought it to life.

“I told you I was never going to quit.” He attempted to throw meaning into his words, but I refused to hear more than what was said. It was terrifying how I could do such a thing; listen and hear exactly what was said or nothing at all. I literally didn’t compute the process, but my mind was six steps ahead and recognized when there was something I might not want to or didn’t need to hear.

“Oh.” Yep. That’s all I have; barely a word. I wasn’t much of a human lately. I look around and see millions of selfish, clattering humans living actual lives and I stand on a stage pretending to be the height of human existence. I watched as the man opened his mouth to speak and then closed it in a slightly stymied manner. My chest constricted in a long forgotten hint of emotion. Twice now I have felt something within my numb existence.

“Ryan.” I looked up at the sound of my name to find the Brendon was staring in horror of something in my direction. I gathered my thoughts and assessed myself. Within seconds I noticed a slight throbbing in my finger and looked down to see the source of the man’s disturbance. I let go of the lit cigarette and watched as it hit the ground.

“What’s wrong with you?” It was meant to be reproaching, but his face, once again telling a different story, was more consoling and understanding. As he cradled my hand, I looked down to confirm that my skin had in fact been scalded by the small embers without my noticing.

“I…” I hate life. I’m severely depressed. I need drugs to feel okay. I’m numb. I love you. “…didn’t notice.”

Those honeyed eyes bore deep into mine in search of me, but they were going to be rather disappointed with their findings. I felt my hand drop to be replaced by him grasping my face. “Is this…this is…” He moved closer as he searched for life and words simultaneously. Just as he was about to finish, I felt my arms embrace him as he buckled beneath my almost responsive touch.

I choked back a few dozen wasps before taking in a breath of stale air. Brendon was now trembling lightly as I held him and I had to wonder how this all spurred from my denied repulsion of food. I passed over the thought to mutter a ‘there, there’ or the equivalent and decided on, or rather couldn’t do anything beyond, no further action. I mean, this was all on my hands.

“Oh god.” Brendon finally began to calm down, but that wasn’t much of an improvement. “You’re all…”

Here we go again with the inability to finish sentences. I might not be able to say much, if anything at all, but I finish what I do say. But who am I kidding? Those little fragments were coming from an angel’s lips. They were sacred bits of heaven and I intended on keeping every single one. “Go inside with me.”

I steered the broken figure and sat down contently in front of my refilled mug and plate. I pushed the unappetizing mound of food toward the man and pulled a smile from my book of jokes. He accepted them  without much thought and I watched with a horror equal to that of Brendon’s from the recent incident; the only difference was my impeccable skill of concealment. I waited him to do a vanishing act with the food before he was able to form words again. “What was that, Ry?”

I shrugged and withheld all negative comments. “I burned my hand, Bren.” There was not even the slightest hint of shame in my voice, but I felt like there should have been.

Brendon’s face contorted to confirm my suspicions. “You let your hand get burned!” He took in a frustrated gasp and then placed his hands firmly on my wrists. I believe it was a technique to get through to my empty head. “It looked like you didn’t even notice it until the end.” This second sentence was far more sullen. It struck a chord on the instrument within my core. The sound bounced off my ribcage and slithered up my cotton candy throat. I gulped down the indistinct melody and closed my eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“You know what? In the little time I’ve seen you these past few days that’s the only legitimate sentence you’ve said the whole time. You’re always apologizing and I feel like it’s for things other than what applies.”

I could not bear to listen to anymore. He was beginning to feel the hum of my entity and I couldn’t let him do that. I wasn’t even allowed to discover my faint emotions. I stood up from the table and tossed down a worn, green bill. He was still grasping my one wrist so I gave a lighthearted yank before making my escape. That’s what ghosts do, right? They just go through the walls when someone tries to contact them. They just want to be left alone in their desolate realm.

**

_“Shut up.”_

“I need to talk to you.” My voice was small, but I had managed to yank it out in Brendon’s hotel doorway nonetheless.

“Ryan?” A small slit of light branded my pale skin before expanding a little more. My pupils contracted into focus and I began to make out his face from the dark hallway.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” I looked down at my soggy sneakers and tried to gnaw a hole in my lip. My heart was creating a double-bass breakdown within my nervous skull.

“How did you find my hotel room?” He effortlessly avoided my statement and didn’t move the door more than an inch.

“I… I know you like this hotel. We always stayed here…” My fleeting almost confidence was fading quickly along with my voice.

“I told the front desk not to disclose my room number.” Brendon replied skeptically. He wasn’t coming off as very accepting of my apology.

My cheeks burned wine red before I even spoke again. “Your favorite number is sixteen…” I didn’t even have to look up to know he was double-checking the number outside his door. I needed to stop being honest when it incriminated me. Regardless of my embarrassment, the door closed, clicked, and then opened fully. My eyes glittered as they took in the breathtaking sight before them. He was in baggy sweatpants and a tee shirt accompanied by ruffled hair. His skin was the sun and his eyes were chocolates.

“You confuse me to no end, Ry.” He shook his head and cast a ray of whimsicality on me. His hand invited me in with a small gesture as he took a step back and I obliged with a nod. We sat together on his bed in silence and I counted his breaths until they were in sync with my own.

“I missed you.” I had let loose in record time and even managed to fully regret it before Brendon even heard it.

“What?” His muddy lakes became oceans of dirt and he was the moon. I was tempted to make an early exit.

“I said I missed you. I really do.” My voice quivered with the strength of a thousand earthquakes and fell into a black hole within my throat.

“What the hell is wrong with you? One minute you’re dead to me and the next you’re bundles of emotion hoping to rekindle our friendship.” He stood up and crushed the air in the palms of his hands. “Who do you fucking think you are?”

I found myself feeling three firm, self-inflicted pinches and after blinking eight times I shriveled into a helpless moth. “I… I know I have some problems…”

“You’ve found the door once, go find it again.” His crocodile words snapped the backbone of my invisible confidence and I sucked down a cold sob. I commanded movement of my lower limbs, but I remained frozen in the grip of defeat. I could feel the beginning of the storm on my ruby cheeks and I told the rain man to leave me alone. He didn’t listen and soon I tasted the ocean on my cracked lips. The moon turned around to repeat himself, but my presence had stopped him. I muttered another apology in a verbal fog and creaked into an upright stance.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” It’s funny how quickly realizations can change a person’s tone. Well, if it had been truly humorous I would have been laughing instead of crying.

“I’m s-sorry. I’m intruding.” I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them slowly to take one last glance and the masterpiece in front of me.

“Wait.” The moonbeams drenched my shoulder and turned me around. “Why did you come all the way over here just to tell me you missed me?”

I sucked down my admittance of love and all other legitimate excuses and searched the swamp contained within my skull for a suitable justification. “I-I didn’t want you to leave on these terms…again.”

“So you’re going to leave after you fix everything?” Unsure of my intentions, Brendon eyed me suspiciously.

“What else is there for me to do? We live separate lives now.” My eyes fled the crime scene and searched for a fire escape.

“Just because we aren’t in the same band doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

“I want…” To be loved by you. To kiss you.

“What do you want, Ry? I can’t give it to you if you don’t let me know what you want.” The fury behind his words sent shivers down my spine and I sunk into the quicksand I purposely walked onto.

“To be your best friend again.” It was all I could ask. He could never love a lost soul. He would never love the dead. I won’t love me. I bit my yearning lips and tossed out my almost proclamation. I don’t deserve to have such emotions reciprocated.

“Oh, Ry.” The moonbeams embraced me and I felt it filling my voids. “I can do that.”

I buried my face deep within his essence and savored him. I could live with this. If I could remain this close to him for even just a year I could handle the burden of my untold love. I could cherish him without his pity and unrequited feelings. I can fight just knowing he was by my side. I might not be able to hold his hand or taste his sweet skin again, but being near him was enough to keep me satisfied. And maybe, just maybe, if he falls asleep under his own moonlight I can brush away his hair and tell him my secret. And press a kiss to his unknowing flesh. And he would be mine for the night. And I would be alive.

 


End file.
